


falling apart, coming together

by suchaboy



Category: Wanna One (Band)
Genre: M/M, Restaurant! AU, waiter! woojin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-01
Updated: 2018-07-01
Packaged: 2019-05-31 15:15:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15122186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suchaboy/pseuds/suchaboy
Summary: Jihoon finds more than he expected in a hole-in-the-wall restaurant and its resident cute waiter.





	falling apart, coming together

At the end of an entire week of bad thing after bad thing, Jihoon honestly cannot complain that it is Friday. He can complain about the midterm essay he spent all of Monday night working on but still didn’t finish, about the Physics quiz that he most definitely failed the next afternoon, and about the Computer Science project he was not able to finish on time. However, Friday comes like the light at the end of the tunnel, and with the sun shining in on a cloudless day, Jihoon finds it difficult to mope about his woes.

Partially, or even entirely because of this, when he’s sitting outside, focused on catching up on lecture but also not wanting to waste the great weather, Jihoon is especially susceptible to agreeability. He notices some movement in his peripheral vision and turns his head to face Guanlin, an eager freshman that Jihoon had somehow taken in under his wing. Guanlin approaches him without abandon and with bright eyes. Jihoon pauses his lecture webcast and greets, “Hey kiddo, what’s up?”

Even at such a small question, Guanlin beams and asks, “Hyung, I was wondering if you were free to get dinner together sometime this weekend?”

Jihoon is not beyond internally freaking out about his weekend schedule and all the work he needs to catch up on, but he takes pride in his ability to put himself together within a short enough time to offer a reasonably timely response. “That sounds great.” He pauses for just a moment. “Actually are you free tonight?”

If Guanlin is surprised, he doesn’t show it. Without missing a beat, he assures, “Yes, that’s perfect! Do you have anywhere you want to go to?”

“I’m good with most everything. You can pick.”

Guanlin tilts his head slightly in contemplation before suggesting, “I don’t really know places, but maybe we can just walk around near campus and see what we find along the way?”

“Sure. Meet at 7?”

“Yes! See you then.” Guanlin leaves as he came, with bright eyes (maybe brighter) and a beaming smile.

Jihoon takes a moment to appreciate and anticipate tonight before pressing the play button on his lecture once again.

They end up choosing the first restaurant they come across, a small, hole-in-the-wall type place right across the street from campus. Jihoon and Guanlin walk in to the tempting smell of Korean spices and the sight of a worker boy who was obviously a student himself. The boy’s hair is a deep, dark red reminiscent of blooming roses. It shouldn’t be the most striking thing. Jihoon has seen crazier hair colors than that.

(Daniel from track once dyed his hair an honestly adorable shade of pink. Just based off of the sudden surge in the college female population attending the school track meets, everyone knew it was sort of iconic. Needless to say, despite their appreciation for the extra attention, the guys did not fail to give Daniel shit about it. Jihoon remembers it fondly.)

Nevertheless, Jihoon can’t look away. Once the redhead looks up and sees them, he meets Jihoon’s eyes for a fleeting second. Jihoon averts his eyes immediately, even though he can hardly count that as him being caught for staring.

The boy asks them, “Table for two?” Jihoon flushes at the implication but simply replies yes. Guanlin nods, as if to affirm the statement.

The boy picks up two menus. “Alright, come with me.” As he leads them to a small table near the window, Jihoon looks around at the other customers currently dining. The waiter sets their menus down and leaves, but Jihoon hardly notices. He’s too distracted by the scene of his teammates - his former teammates from their school’s track club.

Guanlin, ever thoughtful, notices, and asks, “Are they your friends?”

Last semester, Jihoon would have said yes without hesitation. Now, he’s not so sure. Almost unconsciously, his hand moves down to his right knee, the real root of his misery. If Guanlin notices this, he doesn’t make it apparent. “Yeah, I know them from track club.” 

“You’re in track club?”

 

“Ah I was, but at the end of last semester, I tore my ACL during a meet. Obviously I had to sit the rest of the season out for physical therapy. My surgery was a few weeks ago, so I’m just in recovery now.”

Guanlin listens patiently for him to finish speaking before getting straight to the point. “Are you gonna join again after you recover?”

Jihoon pauses. It’s not that it’s something he hasn’t thought about, but it’s something that even though he’s thought about it for so long, he’s not sure what the answer is. Before he provides a response, the waiter returns, asking, “Do you have your orders? Or do you need more time?”

Jihoon watches him place two tall glasses of water on the table as he responds, “Oh I think we’re ready. I’ll have the kimchi fried rice.” After Guanlin opts for kimbap, Jihoon picks up their menus to hand back to the waiter. He’s handsome, with a snaggletooth that appears when he takes the menus from Jihoon’s hands with a smile and a thank you.

Jihoon watches the boy turn around and disappear into the kitchen, his and Guanlin’s previous conversation for a moment blissfully forgotten. That is, right up until Jihoon’s teammates get up to leave. Jihoon is a man of dignity and pride. Naturally, he immediately finds his glass of water incredibly fascinating and peers into it with unabandoned interest. He wonders if it could swallow him up whole when he hears a resounding “Jihoon!” from across the room.

It doesn’t, but the remarkable combination of a noogie and semi-chokehold that Daniel greets him with nearly does. Daniel was Jihoon’s favorite upperclassman on the track team, and if Jihoon didn’t know any better, he’d say he was Daniel’s favorite underclassman. Daniel was one of the reasons, notwithstanding his own passion for running, that Jihoon pushed himself so hard for both the sake of the team and for his own self. Daniel was also conveniently one of the major reasons, notwithstanding a plethora of others Jihoon hasn’t even able to process internally, that he is hesitant about returning to the sport. (Torn knee included.) Daniel snaps him out of his thoughts, exclaiming,”You little brat, you could least say hi to your favorite upperclassman!”

Seongwoo, Daniel’s best friend with a knack for charming the pants off of anyone who ever so much as catches a glimpse of him, coughs dramatically into his hand behind them. Jihoon immediately breaks out into a cheeky grin, retorting, “You know what, Daniel? You’re absolutely right: where are my fucking manners? Hi, Seongwoo. Long time no see.”

Daniel is predictable as ever, and Jihoon laughs as Daniel rescinds his giant arms and deathly tight grasp in favor of crossing his arms over his chest, settling them down with a childish harumph. “That was mean.” If Jihoon’s eyes were closed he could have still detected the pout. “Just for that, you have to promise me you’ll be back for fall season.” 

At that, Jihoon rolls his eyes, hoping he pulls confident off well. “Not-torn knees don’t just grow on trees, hyung.”

“That rhymed,” Guanlin contributes, helpfully.

Seonwoo claps his hand on Jihoon’s shoulder, surprisingly gentle for someone with such a bold personality. “We gotta get going, kid, but don’t be a stranger. We got you.”

To say Jihoon is surprised would be an overstatement. Deep down, Jihoon thinks he has always known this but hearing it, out loud and materialized, is a much different feeling. Still, his week did just get a bit better.

It is only after Seongwoo and Daniel make to leave that Jihoon notices that the waiter is right there, holding onto plates of food that can only be Jihoon and Guanlin’s. Jihoon immediately flushes and asks, “How long have you been there?”

“An hour,” the boy deadpans.

Jihoon repeats, “An hour.”

“I’ve mastered the art of standing so still that I’m invisible,” the boy continues, unfazed.

Daniel snickers. “Sweet reference, Woojin.”

Jihoon opens his mouth to argue back but closes it, a little speechless and a little taken aback that he found out Woojin’s name. Woojin simply gives another snaggletoothed grin and finally places the plates down the table.

“Enjoy your food,” he says and turns around to go back to the kitchen but before he even makes a step, faces Jihoon and adds, “You should really think about joining the team again. I think Daniel and Seongwoo would die of heartbreak otherwise. And then I’d be stuck planning the funeral.” 

This time, he leaves with a soft smile and a wink. Jihoon is, not for the first time, lost for words.

The rest of the meal, however, much to Jihoon’s comfort, passes by without any notable incidents involving overbearing friends or cute, unexpectedly familiar waiters. And if Jihoon makes a point of remembering the name and location of the restaurant after he’s treated Guanlin and they’re heading out, well, no one needs to know.

After having visited the restaurant once, Jihoon finds that he can’t stop noticing it on his daily commute. He can’t help but feel a bit curious about Woojin. The way he talked about Daniel and Seongwoo wasn’t like he had just met them. More particularly, the way he talked with Jihoon and gave him advice didn’t feel like he just met him either. It felt like he knew Jihoon.

Jihoon can’t quite keep his mind off of it, and that’s how he finds himself wandering into the restaurant again exactly a week later. He reasons that he just wants to treat himself for getting through another week and pat himself on the back for taking slightly less L’s, but if he’s being honest with himself, he wanted to get to know Woojin, too.

He walks in to the sight of Woojin just clearing out a table. When Woojin notices him this time, he gives a small smile and Jihoon pretends he doesn’t feel his heart clench.

Woojin points to a booth off to the side, greeting, “Just you this time?” It would be offensive if not for his mischievous little grin, snaggletooth pointing out like no one’s business.

There he goes again, but Jihoon thinks two can play this game. He responds, “I’ll have you know, babe, I’m never just a ‘just.’” He throws in a wink for good measure because false bravado is Jihoon’s favorite defense tactic.

He would take pride in the way Woojin’s face turns pink and the way his lips are fighting back a smile, (and for the record, losing) but he can hardly focus on anything while he feels his own cheeks burn something fierce.

Eager to do anything with his hands other than bury his face in them out of embarrassment, he sits down and looks at the menu, only to order, “Same thing as last time, please.”

Woojin is unfazed when he replies, “Coming right up, Jihoon.” He leaves before Jihoon can even process how he knows his name.

When Woojin returns with a steaming order of kimchi fried rice, Jihoon simply has to gloat. “I’ve literally been here once and I never even told you my name, yet you still remembered what I ordered. Either you have Sherlock Holmes memory or you’re my stalker who’s secretly in love with me.”

Woojin looks away. “I just pay attention. But Seongwoo and Daniel talk about you so much I might as well be your stalker, to be honest.”

It makes sense that Woojin would hear of him from Seongwoo and Daniel since they hung out so much last semester to the point that they almost got sick of each other. But hearing of him and hearing about him are two very different things.

Woojin takes Jihoon’s silence as a cue to continue on and elaborate. “You know, the way they talk about you is like you put the sun and the moon in the sky.”

Now, Jihoon can only scoff. “Well, that’s.. Unexpected.”

“Why is that?” Jihoon hates that he can hear the sincerity and caring so clearly in Woojin’s voice.

“I know you’ve heard about my injury.” At this, Woojin makes himself meek. Jihoon continues, :But I bet you don’t know how I got it. Last semester, we had the Big Meet, the one we finish in second every single year because our rival takes first, every single year. We were so close this time that my last race decided the result. I’m usually good at controlling my nerves, but they got the best of me.”

Jihoon plays absentmindedly with his fork, moving around the remaining bits of his rice. “I tore my ACL at the very start of the race. I didn’t even get halfway through. Just collapsed on the track and had to be helped off.”

He puts his fork down. “Shit hurt, but it didn’t hurt more than limping past the locker room after and hearing my hyungs cry out of frustration. We were so close, and I really just blew it.” He makes eye contact with Woojin now, asking, “How do I go back after that?”

 

“With the support of your friends, Jihoon. They don’t blame you or resent you for your injury, and I think it’s time you stop doing that to yourself. Your knee needs to heal, but I think so does your heart.”

Jihoon takes that in for a moment, feeling now more recovered than any surgery or any physical therapy helped with. When Woojin leaves this time, he places a kiss on Jihoon’s cheek, and even if for just a moment, Jihoon feels that he could take on the world.

Jihoon writes his phone number down on the receipt and leaves the restaurant feeling healthier than he has in a long time.


End file.
